


Maybe We Are Falling

by hidinginmybones



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, LiveJournal, M/M, Tattoos, dm_asp_fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidinginmybones/pseuds/hidinginmybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus Severus is a tattoo artist, and a good one. One day, an older, pale haired man walks in and asks for a very peculiar tattoo and Al falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We Are Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dm_asp_fest on LiveJournal for drarryxlover from the prompt: Albus is a tattoo artist, and Draco is addicted to tattoos.

Al ignores the bell above the door as it goes off and says, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” He’s not trying to be rude or anything it’s just that it’s important that he doesn’t break his attention, considering he’s holding a tattoo gun and shading someone’s thigh right now. He can’t make mistakes because with tattoos, there are no do-overs. If his customers are unsatisfied with his work, they go to someone else to get it fixed and that’s not something Al wants. He works for a few more minutes, and then tells his current customer that she can have a smoke break. After she gets up and heads out, Al cleans up a little then turns to face his possible new client. “Hi,” he says as he stands and heads over to the counter. “What can I do for you?”

The man looks up from one of Al’s colleague’s portfolio’s and faces him with a level stare. “Well I’d like to get tattooed,” he says. “But I’m honestly not sure where to go or who to go with,” he admits a little more quietly. It’s like this guy is so used to knowing everything and being right about it that he’s at a loss with not knowing anything about the one thing Al knows a lot about. 

“Well, let’s start first with what you want,” Al suggests.

The older man nods and takes off fedora, revealing hair so blond it looks white. He looks much younger to Al now, than he had originally since Al had assumed that the hair was grey. Not only does he look much younger but much more attractive as well. Al tries not to think about that. He doesn’t even know this man and even though Al doubts he’s hit fifty, he’s still far too old for Al. The man clears his throat and Al realizes he’s staring. 

“I just want something small,” he says. “Just a triangle with a circle inside and a line going down the middle and I want it on my wrist.” 

Al tries not to choke because he knows exactly what that is: it’s the sign of those who believe in the Deathly Hallows, which is a wizarding thing. Al had left the wizarding world when he graduated from Hogwarts, needing to escape the shadow of his father’s fame. He never thought he’d run into someone from that world here, in a small muggle town, in America. He tries not to let his surprise show. 

“Are you sure you want it on your wrist?” Al asks, “because if you don’t have any other tattoos, then a wrist one will be hard for you to hide…”

“I’ll be deadly honest with you, I have a lot of skin. If this one goes well, then I want you to cover the rest of it.”

Well if that’s the case, “Okay then, I can fit you in just after I finish my current appointment. Can you be back in an hour?” he asks, opening up his appointment book.

The older man nods and replaces his hat. 

“Can I just get your name?” Al asks, rooting around for a pen. He feels one placed in his hand and looks up and smiles at the blond. “Thanks,” he says. 

“You’re welcome, and I’m Drake.”

Al pencils him in and nods, “I’m Asp, and I’ll see you in an hour.”

Al waits until his new client leaves and then heads out into the alleyway between the shop and the brewery next door for a cigarette, all the while wondering who this man can be.

* 

When Draco had walked into the tattoo shop, it had been like seeing a ghost. The young man tattooing had looked exactly like Harry Potter, his old nemesis from school. But it couldn’t have been Harry, the boy had too many tattoos and he was far too young. Draco had heard something about Harry and that Weasley girl having children… could this be one of their children? Of course not, Draco dismisses the idea entirely. There’s no way a child of Harry Potter would leave the wizarding world when such privilege would be heaped upon them. Draco himself had been forced to leave due to the shame his father had heaped upon the family name. No matter how much Draco did, it was never enough to put him back into good standing. It didn’t matter that Harry Potter himself had come to speak at his hearing, nor that it hadn’t been his choice to follow Voldemort in the war. The wizarding world no longer had a place for the Malfoys, and as such, Draco had left it with no regrets.

Well, maybe not no regrets. The truth is, Draco misses the wizarding world like he’d miss a lung were he missing one, and one of the reasons he wants the Deathly Hallows tattoo is so that here, in America, he might find some fellow wizards to become friends with or possibly even more than friends. Ever since leaving the wizarding world, Draco has been intensely lonely. 

To waste the allotted hour, Draco crosses the street to a small café and gets himself a coffee. He sits outside on the patio and lights a cigarette. He really hopes that this tattoo goes well. Ever since coming to live in the muggle world, Draco has been quite intrigued by body art and the culture that surrounds it. He loves to look at people with so much colour and art decorating their bodies and he loves to hear the stories behind them. He won’t be able to tell anyone the true stories behind his personal art, but he’s already figured out a cover for it: he got it from a fantasy book that he’d read as a child. Tattoo culture, especially to the extent of its popularity now, is so young that he doubts his artist will even question the origin of his designs. Asp doesn’t look much older than twenty, and as such, Draco doubts he’s bothered reading anything that would have been written when he was young, especially not something that Draco knows isn’t a real book. 

Finally, it’s time for Draco to return to the tattoo shop and when the bell above the door signals his arrival, Asp is spraying down the chair and disinfecting his work area. He turns and smiles brightly at Draco and Draco gives him a small smile in return. He tries to get over the shock of how much this boy looks like Harry again, before he begins to obsess over it, like he’d obsessed over Harry in his younger days.

“I just have to finish cleaning up and then we can get into it,” Asp says as he sprays a large amount of disinfectant over his work area again. 

Draco nods and sits in one of the chairs. He grabs a tattoo magazine from the shelf and begins to flip through it. Soon enough, Asp is calling his name and he’s standing, walking over to the young tattoo artist. Asp holds up a sketch, one that looks too exactly like the Deathly Hallows to be coincidence and asking if the size is okay. Draco ignores the feeling that this exact replica of what he wants is just too much and nods. He rolls up the long sleeve of his button down shirt and extends his wrist to the artist. Al presses it down and pulls it off after smoothing the edges to make sure the transfer works and then looks at Draco sheepishly, “Smoke break, by the time I’m back, it’ll be dry.” 

“I’ll join you,” Draco replies easily. Asp nods and leads the way out to the alley, where he sparks his lighter and lights his smoke. Draco does the same. 

“So what does this tattoo mean to you?” Asp asks as he exhales the smoke into the air between them. 

Draco shrugs. “It’s a symbol from a book I read when I was young. It was a really good book and it’s stuck with me ever since,” he admits untruthfully. 

“Oh, cool,” Asp replies. He smiles up at him. “Well I hope you like my work, I’d love to do more on you. I love to work on virgin skin.”

Draco arches a brow to him and smirks, “We’ll see,” he says as he exhales the smoke. Soon enough, they’re finished outside and they climb back into the shop by the side door.

Asp motions for Draco to sit, which he does and reaches to pull his hand forward onto the table in front of him. “No colour?” he asks and Draco shakes his head. Asp looks at the outline for a lingering moment and then pulls a few bottles of ink from a shelf and fills tiny little circular containers with it. He reaches over and gently slides the needle into his machine then presses the foot pedal a few times to make sure it’s working. He then dips the machine into the ink and moves toward Draco. “It might hurt,” he warns. Draco doubts it will though, after all, he did suffer through receiving the Dark Mark without complaint. 

When the buzzing machine makes its first contact with Draco’s skin, he takes a deep breath and steels himself. It does hurt, even Draco can admit that, if only to himself, but it’s not nearly as bad as it could be. It’s certainly not nearly as bad as the Dark Mark, a pain that Draco still remembers like it was freshly burned into his skin but it does sting a bit. He watches as the needle on the machine punctures his skin over and over again, staining it black and causing small amounts of blood to well up. It doesn’t take long for the outline to be finished and Draco flexes his hand as Asp changes the needle. 

“Doing okay?” the artist asks. 

“Of course,” Draco replies. “It’s a lot less painful than some of the things I’ve had to go through,” he admits, thinking of things that he’d had to do and things that had been done to him in the war. 

Asp nods at him and settles in to finish the shading up. Finally, the tattoo is finished and Asp is wiping off the excess ink and blood. “Take a look,” the young artist says and Draco does. 

He walks over to the mirror and looks at the small symbol of the Deathly Hallows on his wrist. He can’t help but allow a smile to cross his face slowly before turning back to Asp. “Thank you,” he says, “it’s perfect.” 

Asp smiles at him gently and nods, “Well, I hope to get the chance to ink you again.” He takes Draco’s wrist and wraps it in a pad in order to soak up the excess ink and blood. Draco definitely notices how the artist’s fingers linger perhaps slightly too long. 

“I’m sure you will,” Draco replies. He walks over and pays and then walks out of the shop, eager to get home and perform a healing spell in order to see how his tattoo will look for the rest of his life.

*

It’s only a few days later that the bell above the door rings again and Drake walks in. Al isn’t busy, so he looks up and greets the newcomer, only instead to say, “Oh hey, you’re back.” Drake looks even better than he did the first time he’d come in, this time wearing perfectly tailored trousers, an un-tucked button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a sharp looking vest that he’s left open. He’s left off the hat this time, and his hair is slicked to the side. Al feels his mouth go dry and he clears his throat.

Drake nods, “I told you I would be,” he says as he walks up to the counter and leans against it.

Al walks up and leans against the other side of the counter and scrubs a hand through his unruly hair. “So, how is the little one holding up?” he asks, looking up at Drake from below his fringe. 

“Perfectly,” Drake replies. He turns his wrist over to show Asp the ink and Asp’s eyebrows rise, that is, until he remembers that Drake is actually a wizard. He likely went home that night and performed a healing spell and didn’t have to go through any of the pain of healing. Al kind of thinks that it’s a cop out, but at the same time, if Drake is as intent on getting more tattoos as he seems to be, the faster he heals, the faster he can get more done. 

“Wow, that was fast,” Al states. “Come back for more?” he adds with a grin. 

Drake nods, and describes what he wants next. It’s a piece that’s supposed to extend from the Deathly Hallows symbol and up his forearm. There are seven things he wants included: a crown of sorts, a golden cup, a shredded, broken diary with a basilisk fang embedded in it, a terrifying snake with evil red eyes, a locket, a ring and a young boy with unruly black hair, round spectacles and a lightning bolt scar. The boy is Harry Potter, Al’s father and vanquisher of one Lord Voldemort.. Al knows what the rest of them are right away as well, they are the six horcruxes that Voldemort created in order to avoid death. He’d created the six of them with the intention of only splitting his soul seven ways, having one piece reside inside of his body as well. Al’s father had been the seventh horcrux, created unwittingly by the Dark Lord and unknown until its destruction caused by Al’s father’s death. Al writes it all down even though he doesn’t need to and nods. “How about tomorrow?” he says. “I can get the drawing done tonight, and we can tattoo it right away.”

“Sounds perfect,” Drake replies with a nod. “I can’t wait.”

Al thinks he might be reading into things a little, but he says it anyway, “I’m about to grab a coffee, do you want to come?” 

There’s surprise in Drake’s eyes before he clamps it down and nods, “Yeah, okay,” he says. He pushes himself from the counter and stands up straight. Al finds himself doing the same and then walking around the counter to the same side as the older man. He tells the other artist in the shop that he’s stepping out and then he heads toward the door with Drake. 

Immediately after they step outside, Drake stops for a moment and lights a cigarette. Al thinks that he is truly a man after his own heart and does the same. “So Drake, are you from around here?” Al knows that he’s not, since he knows that Drake is a wizard, but he still feels the need to make conversation with the older man. 

Drake shakes his head, “No, England,” he admits. “How about you?”

“I’m also from England,” Al replies, looking over at Drake with wide eyes. “What are the chances of that?” 

Drake just shrugs and inhales on his cigarette. “The same as meeting anyone, I’d imagine,” he replies quietly. 

Al shrugs, “I guess so,” he says. Once they get to the coffee shop, he stubs out his cigarette and goes in. He orders something sweet, full of espresso and soy milk. He needs the extra energy today because he has a big appointment coming up. Drake, on the other hand, orders a simple black coffee. Al files the information away so that he can maybe pick up coffee for the appointment tomorrow and heads outside to a small table on the patio. He smiles when Drake sits down across from him. Al dips his finger into the thick whipped cream on top of his drink and licks it off before asking, “If you’re from England, why are you here?”

Drake levels him with a stare that’s not exactly cold but it’s definitely not warm either. “Do you always ask so many questions?” he intones. 

“Only when I care to hear the answers,” Al replies, looking at Drake from beneath his fringe once again. He licks more of the whipped cream off his fingers and delights in the way that the older man watches. 

“I didn’t want to be there any more,” Drake replies simply. He doesn’t offer any other explanation so Al lets it drop. “What about you?” he asks. 

“Fair’s fair,” Al replies, “I didn’t want to be there any more, either. I don’t think there’s any way my family would accept my life,” he adds with a shrug. 

Drake arches a brow at him, like he knows something that Al doesn’t. Al doubts he could though, since Drake doesn’t even know that he’s a wizard. “And it’s worth it, then?” 

“You very recently had your first tattoo experience, you tell me,” Al replies. 

Drake gets a far away look in his eyes and is silent for a long moment, so long that Al thinks he may have missed the question entirely. Eventually, he nods slowly and replies, “most definitely.”

“I would be hard to give up this freedom, now that I have it,” Al admits. Now that the whipped cream is gone, Al actually picks up his drink so that he can sip it. “Besides, my mother cried for weeks when I told her I’m gay, stating that I would never give her grandchildren. Somehow, That’s a travesty,” he laughs.

Drake shakes his head, “Well, do you have siblings?”

“Yeah, an older brother and a younger sister, both who are more than willing to procreate. I don’t know why I need to as well,” he complains.

Drake just shrugs and sips his drink. His eyes look haunted for a moment before he shuts down the emotion and then they just look blank. Al decides it’s better not to ask about whatever is bothering him at the moment. 

It’s also getting to be about the time that he needs to head back to the shop, even though what he really wants to do is stay here with Drake. He does have an appointment though, so he forces himself to stand. “I have to get going,” he explains, “my appointment is in ten minutes.” 

Drake nods and stands as well. “I should be heading back home anyway,” he says. He heads toward the shop with Al, chatting about the weather of all things, and drops him off at the shop. He leaves with a casual wave of his hand and a small smile curling around his lips. 

Al waves back and smiles back and then enters the shop. Once inside, he leans back against the door and takes in a deep breath. It’s only been two days and already Drake has wormed his way into Al’s life. Al isn’t complaining, he just wonders who the mysterious wizard is. He’ll have to find out, there’s no choice about it now.But that means he’ll have to send a few owls and he first has to decide who he should send them to.

*

Draco walks into the tattoo shop holding a tray of coffees. One is for him and the other is for Asp, or Albus Severus Potter as he’s recently discovered. The uncovering of Asp’s true identity hadn’t come as a huge shock to Draco, considering how much he looked like his father, Harry Potter, and how he asked so few questions while Draco had explained the horcruxes to him. It didn’t take much research in the Malfoy library, nor very many owls to old friends before Draco had found out a great deal about Asp, including details of the existence of his older brother and younger sister. Draco had left the wizarding world almost entirely at the tender age of twenty-two and as such, hadn’t had any inclination to find out what his old rival had gotten up to in the years after the war but meeting Asp in a small town in America had spurred his curiosity.

Asp looks up at him when the bell sounds and a wide smile crosses his face. “Hey,” he says as he walks over. He looks every bit the trendy tattoo artist, with his sleeveless shirt, ink up to his neck, tight jeans and bandana and for some reason, Draco actually loves it. He feels a smile tugging on his own lips in return. “I brought you a coffee,” he says. 

Asp full out grins at him, “I was going to grab one for you but I haven’t been able to leave the shop yet,” he says. “I have your drawing done though,” he scampers off to the back of the shop and comes back with a sheet of paper. “I hope I got it right...” he says.

Draco lets his eyes scan over the paper and forces his jaw not to drop. It’s absolutely perfect and Asp had even added in the sorting hat and the sword of Gryffindor, and an overbearing figure with red eyes and a snakelike face, casting his shadow over all of the other items. If Draco hadn’t already known that Asp is a wizard, and Harry Potter’s son no less, he would have known immediately that he is now. Draco looks up and meets Asp’s eyes. “It’s perfect,” Draco replies, awed. “How did you...?”

Asp levels him with a serious look and says, “I must have read the same books you did as a child.” 

“I guess you must have,” Draco replies. He’s not sure if Asp knows who he is yet, but he is sure that Asp knows he’s a wizard. 

“Come on back, I need to get the stencil on you,” Asp says. He takes the drawing over to a machine and the stencil spits out of it. Draco watches for a moment but then realizes that he’s going to have to get out of his button down shirt in order to have his forearm tattooed, so he begins to unbutton it. Thankfully, he’s wearing an undershirt. He still bears the scars from Harry’s Sectumsempra curse and if Asp doesn’t know who is is already, he will if he sees them. 

Asp presses the stencil onto Draco’s skin gently and smoothes his hands over the paper to make sure it sticks in the right places. “I’m really excited to do this piece,” he admits, “but I doubt I’ll get it done today. I hope that’s okay?” 

Draco nods, “I had full intentions of coming back here anyways,” he admits. 

Asp smiles at him and peels back the paper. “Smoke break before we get started?” he suggests. 

Draco smiles at him and nods, then follows him out to the alleyway. Asp sparks his lighter and inhales deeply on his cigarette. Draco catches himself watching the way his lips work over the end of it and forces himself to look away. He can’t help but marvel at how much Asp looks like Harry but how he’s also nothing like Draco’s childhood rival. Where Harry had been brash and quick to throw out spells and insults, Asp is quiet and charming. Draco had always thought that Harry was good looking but he’d never gone beyond that but with Asp, Draco is not merely intrigued. He may actually be developing feelings for the young Potter, despite only having met him a few times. Draco knows that Asp is far too young for him, him being twenty six years Asp’s elder but it doesn’t stop Draco from wanting even the chance of being with him. Sometimes, he even thinks that Asp may be flirting with him. 

“How long do you think it will be today?” Draco asks curiously. He hadn’t made any other plans for the evening, having been expecting to be at the shop.

“We work until one of us calls it quits,” Asp replies with a shrug. “I can go up to seven hours without a good break, but after that I’m a little useless.”

Draco nods and finishes off his cigarette. He steps up to the door and opens it for Asp who looks at him and smiles playfully, “So are you ready for some pain Drake?” 

Draco isn’t sure if it’s the ridiculous way that Asp says it, or the look on his young face but Draco finds himself bursting out laughing, something that he hasn’t done in far too long now. He ends up leaning against the door, head thrown back in complete abandon to the hilarity of the situation. Asp looks at him with confusion written all over his features and all it serves to do is make Draco laugh harder. His seventeen year old self would have vehemently denied any chance of him being where he is today: living in the muggle world, becoming increasingly more addicted to getting tattooed and being attracted to the son of Harry Potter. Draco catches Asp’s eyes and shrugs helplessly as another bout of laughter takes over. Finally, he stops and catches his breath. “Merlin, I needed that,” he admits. 

Asp smiles at him, slightly amused and slightly affectionate. Draco feels his heart swell and he pulls open the door. Once inside, he positions himself according to how Asp instructs him to and settles in. The pain allows Draco to regain his focus, his skin burning as Asp runs the needles up and down his wrist, then his forearm. He revels in the feeling, allowing the pain to show him that without a doubt, he is absolutely living and this moment is happening. After the war, he’d tried to block out everything, numbing himself against all emotion, most of all pain and love but now... now all Draco wants is to feel, to live in the moment. He embraces the sharpness of the pain and just lets his mind wander through nothingness. The pain of being tattooed leaves Draco no time to think of anything else, not the war, not his failure at fitting into the wizarding world afterward, nothing. It’s exhilarating. He never wants this feeling to end.

Soon, too soon really, Asp is nudging him. “I need a ten minute break, you okay?” he asks. 

Draco blinks a few times then nods. “Yeah, I could use a cigarette,” he says as he stands. “I went off somewhere there, didn’t I?”

Asp nods, “It happens to a lot of people though,” he says. “They just use the pain to help them deal with something else that went on or is going on in their lives.” He leans back in his chair and pulls off his gloves, sighing with relief as he rolls his shoulders back. He smiles gently at Draco and says, “I’ll be back.”

*

Al looks over and smiles when he hears Drake come into the shop. The older man has been coming by at least once a week for months now. He only goes to Al for his tattoos, refusing the offer of the other artists in the shop to ink him. Al is kind of proud of the work he’s done on Drake, and he loves that he’s the only one that works on him. He stands and walks over to lean on the counter across from him. “Hey,” he says, smiling.

Drake smirks at him, “Hey, Asp.” 

Al puts his hands on the counter and traces a finger over the glass. “What can I do for you?” he asks while looking at the older man from under his fringe. 

“Well, I’m here to get tattooed, of course,” Drake starts, “This time on my chest. I want a lake filled with little boats with lights on them and in one boat, I’d like a giant man,” he says. 

Al nods, “For when the first years come to Hogwarts,” he says quietly. Suddenly, he’s overcome with homesickness. He hasn’t seen Hagrid since he’d left the wizarding world, along with all of his other friends. 

“Exactly,” Drake replies. “I knew you’d be able to do it,” he adds. 

Al nods, “When? I’m pretty booked up this week, so far,” he says regretfully. 

Drake looks disappointed for a moment, but he masks it quickly. “Next week then?” he suggests. 

Al smiles and nods, “I’m pretty sure I can fit you in,” he laughs. He reaches over to grab the appointment book so that he can pencil Drake in but he finds his wrist caught up in Drake’s hand instead. Al looks at him confusedly. “When-”

“Why don’t we discuss it over dinner?” Drake asks in his quiet way.

Al can’t help but grin. “I’d love to do that,” he says. “Seriously. I’m here til seven-ish tonight, does that work for you?” 

Drake nods and smiles in return, “Of course. I’ll come back and meet you here at that time.”

Al runs his hands through his messy hair and admits, “I’ve been waiting for you to do this for months.” 

Drake catches his wrist again and leans forward, gently pressing his lips to Al’s. It’s innocent, really, when compared to other kisses that Al has had but it still gets his heart pounding. “I’ll see you later,” Drake says and then turns and leaves. 

Al stands there, staring after him and pressing his fingers to his lips until his next appointment walks in.

A few hours later, Al is cleaning up his station when Drake walks back in the door. Instantly, Al smiles, “I’ll just be another minute,” he says. 

Drake takes a seat in one for the chairs that lines the wall for waiting appointments and nods. Al tries really hard not to rush his clean up without much success. He figures he can just do an extra good job when he comes in the next day, but for now, his excitement has gotten the best of him. He washes his hands quickly and then flops over onto the chair next to Drake, “Hey,” he says with a grin.

Drake smiles back, “Hey,” he replies simply. Al is still grinning and when Drake shifts a bit closer to him, his grin might actually widen, no matter how impossible the notion seems. “What are you so happy about?” the older man asks. 

“Well, Drake, earlier today, one of my favourite clients came in and asked me out, which I’ve been dying for him to do since the first time he walked through the door to this shop,” Al replies, leaning toward Drake. 

“Why is that?” Drake asks, seemingly being pulled toward Al as well.

“Well, he’s really hot,” Al starts, “and he gets really interesting tattoos and he’s a mite older than I am but I don’t really care about that shit, because I just really like him.”

“Over twenty years is not a small difference,” Drake points out, looking nervous for a moment. 

Al doesn’t think that look becomes the older man at all and shrugs, “Twenty years is nothing when you’re a wizard.” 

Drake just nods at him and his smile returns. Al takes this as an invitation and closes the gap between the two of them and presses his lips to Drake’s gently. Their kiss is chaste, but only for a few fleeting moments before Al surges forward and kisses Drake more deeply. He feels the older man’s hands come up and submerge themselves into his messy hair and Al hikes a leg up, draping it over Drake’s legs so that he can get closer still. It’s at this point that Drake actually pulls away. 

“Shouldn’t we be eating?” he asks. 

“Fuck it, I’ve waited too long for this. We’re getting take away and going to my flat. Unless, of course, you’d rather not?” Al implores. He hasn’t moved his leg yet and is still mostly pressed against the older wizard, so he highly doubts that Drake will have a better suggestion.

Drake shakes his head and states, “I’m sure that I’ve been waiting just as long as you have.”

Al nods and says, “well then, we’re in agreement. I’ll call and place an order and we can make out until we have to pick it up.” 

Drake grins at him, eyes sparking with mischief and Al grins back. It’s looking like it’s going to be quite a good night.

*

They arrive at Asp’s flat with a paper bag full of take-out and swollen red lips. Asp turns on the lights and sets the bag on the living room table and disappears back to get some plates. “Hey, Drake, do you want a beer?” Draco hears Asp call.

“Do you have any wine?” Draco asks in reply. Asp’s head appears from around the corner and he shakes it, “beer is fine then,” Draco replies. He settles down on the worn sofa and starts to take the food out of the bag. Asp appears fully only moments later with plates and beers for both of them. Asp cracks both bottles open and Draco dishes out the food. They eat and drink in silence and Draco feels increasingly more uncomfortable as the night goes on. 

It’s not because he doesn’t want to be here with Asp, it’s actually quite the opposite. Ever since he’d left the wizarding world at the age of twenty-two, he’d avoided getting involved with anyone long term. He’d wanted to, of course he had and he’d been incredibly lonely these past years but Draco is ashamed of his past, disgusted by the things that he’s done in his life. If he can’t accept that part of his life himself, how is he supposed to expect someone else to? Not only that, but he’s a wizard, posing as a muggle. He might hook up with muggle men occasionally, just so that he’s not lonely for one night, but he can’t forge a relationship with them, not when he would need to hide so many things from them. 

Which is the problem now. He’s sitting in Harry Potter’s son’s living room, eating take out with him and drinking his beer. Both of them know where the night will lead and Draco doesn’t think he can follow through with it, not without telling Asp everything. If Asp had just been another man to warm his bed for a night, then Draco wouldn’t care but... Asp is the first person that Draco has come into contact with since moving into the muggle world that has made him feel like himself again and that’s not something he wants to let go of. Draco knows that as soon as Asp knows the truth about him, he’ll leave, and Draco will be even more broken than he is already.

Not for the first time, he curses himself for falling for the Potter boy in the first place. 

He’s shaken from his thoughts by Asp touching his arm gently. “Drake? Is something the matter?” he asks.

“No, nothing. Everything is fine,” Draco replies, forcing a smile. 

Asp smiles back, more unsure this time and nods. Once they finish eating, Asp clears up the plates and brings them each another beer. This time, he sits closer, so that their thighs are pressed against each other and Draco is aware of every single inch. He feels Asp’s fingers on his chin and turns his head toward the tattoo artist only to be met with Asp’s lips against his and suddenly, everything feels right again. He ignores the guilt plaguing him and leans in further to kiss the younger man. Asp opens his mouth to Draco, sliding out his tongue and tangling it with Draco’s own. He moves forward, pressing Draco back against the arm of the sofa and tangling his fingers in Draco’s short hair. It used to be that Draco would be the one pursuing his lovers, at least it had been that way at Hogwarts, but now it seems like Asp is taking the lead in things. It works for Draco, this way he doesn’t have to think about anything other than the feel of Asp’s lips on his.

Asp presses his body tight against Draco’s and Draco drapes his arms around the tattoo artist’s smaller form. He tries not to think about how lithe his mother is and how that must be where he gets it from because he really shouldn’t be thinking about these things while Asp is doing such amazing things to his neck with his teeth and tongue. 

“Drake,” he whispers, “how are you so hot?”

Draco chuckles at that and replies, “good breeding,” he replies. He pulls Asp’s head back up and kisses him again. “Maybe a good tattoo artist too,” he adds as an after thought. 

Asp grins at him and asks, “wanna see my bedroom?” 

“Well, with an offer like that, how can I say no?” Draco responds teasingly. He pushes himself onto his elbows as Asp climbs off of him. He takes the younger wizard’s hand and allows Asp to pull him up. Asp kisses him again now that they’re standing but pulls away quickly. Draco gets the feeling that if he doesn’t stop now, they’ll end up rutting up against each other on the sofa. Instead of leaning in again, he allows Asp to lead him through the house. 

Once inside the bedroom, Asp’s hands come up and undo Draco’s shirt. If he sees the scars left there by his father, he says nothing about it and presses Draco towards the bed. “Merlin, you’re beautiful,” the younger man says quietly. “I can’t even...” he stops, leaving Draco to wonder at what he had been about to say and steps into the v of his legs. Asp reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and then lifts the garment over his head, dropping it carelessly behind him and Draco’s eyes are met with swirls of colour and design. He’d had no idea that Asp was this covered. He brings his hands up and trails his fingers along the lines in front of him, marvelling at the design Asp had chosen to adorn himself with. 

“You’re the one that’s beautiful,” Draco replies before he leans forward and follows the path of his fingers with his lips instead. “I’m just an old man,” he adds quietly. 

Asp shakes his head, “No, I think there’s a lot more to you than anyone realizes,” he says and leans down toward Draco’s mouth again. 

That’s what does it though, just those few simple words uttered before something inside Draco breaks and the guilt comes flooding back. “Asp, there’s something I need to tell you,” he says and pulls away from the younger man entirely. 

Asp frowns at him, “It’s not something that can’t wait?” he asks, trying to move toward him again. 

Draco shakes his head and drags a hand through his hair. “You need to know now before you make a decision that turns out to be a mistake,” he says.

“Drake...” 

“That’s not my name,” Draco states. “Which is what I need to tell you...” Draco can feel his heart racing as he says the next words since he has no idea how Asp will actually react to his admission, “I’m Draco Malfoy,” he says finally, in barely more than a whisper.

*

To say that Al had been disappointed when Drake had suddenly put a halt on things in order to tell him something would be an extreme understatement. Al has been looking forward to this for months now, literally since the very first time Drake had walked into his shop. He’d been able to tell though, that his usual heavy handed flirtation would not have worked and he had to wait until Drake had been ready to move things forward, if that ever happened. Drake is skittish and nervous and completely unpractised at flirting which Asp finds absolutely adorable and endearing. Over the past months, Al has been able to breach the scared exterior to see what Drake is really like underneath. He likes the glimpses he’s gotten enough to doubt that anything Drake tells him now won’t matter, not in the long run at the very least. That is, until Drake tells him his true name: Draco Malfoy and then all Al wants to do is laugh.

“I know,” he says simply. He waits until Drake moves his hands from his face and gives his soon-to-be lover a look of pure amusement. “Come on, Drake? You expected me not to be able to figure that one out? I wasn’t a Ravenclaw for nothing,” he states.

“You know?” Drake repeats. “You know that I was your father’s rival in school and that I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and that I was the reason that Dumbledore...” 

Al nods and moves up toward the older man. “Of course. And what’s more? I absolutely do not care,” he says. He gets an arm around Drake’s shoulders and holds him gently against his chest. “I don’t care because it’s obvious to me that those aren’t things you’re proud of, and you’ve beaten yourself up about them enough. I’m not going to punish you for them; you’ve dealt with that enough.” 

“But...”

Al just shakes his head, “You aren’t a teenager anymore, Drake. You’re a grown man that refuses to let yourself live because of decisions that were made for you. I won’t fault you for your remorse, but you need to allow yourself to escape your guilt. I can help you, you know. I want to.” 

Drake just shrugs and wraps his arms around Al tightly. Al smiles and ruffles his hair, finding it slightly odd that he’s the one offering comfort to a man so much older than himself. He trails a finger over yet another thick black line spreading across Al’s chest. 

“And since we’re being all honest with each other, I’m sure you already know this but, I’m Albus Potter, Harry’s son.”

Drake nods, “I did know, which was why I didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “Why did you...?”

“Let’s talk about that after, okay? For now, I want to show you how much I don’t care what your real name is,” Al states firmly before tipping Drake’s face up to kiss him again. This time, there’s far more gentleness than desire but no less passion. Al presses forward, opening his mouth to Drake and running his tongue over Drake’s lower lip. His eyes close slowly because he wants to see Drake’s face, see how much he’s enjoying it but he can’t stop himself from surrendering to the feelings coursing through him. 

His heart is beating quickly as their lips meet again, this time from a different angle because Drake has moved to his knees and is leaning his body over Al’s. There’s no hesitation; Al opens his mouth and slides his tongue against Drake’s. His chest feels tight with emotion and he pours the feeling into their shared kiss, making sure that there’s no more doubt in Drake’s mind about how Al feels about him. Al kisses Drake like he wants to melt into him, like he wants them to become one single person with all the same thoughts and memories. He explores Drake’s mouth like he’d like to explore his entire being and is left gasping when Drake finally pulls away. 

Al gulps for air, barely managing to fill his lungs before Drake is back, kissing him again and again until Al needs more. Drake’s shirt had been undone before, so Al tugs it off and reaches down for the zip on Drake’s tailored trousers while Drake continues to kiss him madly. Once Drake’s pants are undone, Al slips them down and slides his hands underneath the waistband of Drake’s pants. 

“Fuck,” Drake curses against Al’s lips and Al feels his cock twitch at the sound of such a dirty word on Drake’s tongue. Al isn’t sure why Drake swearing turns him on so much but the mood inside himself switches quickly from passion and desperation to pure lust. Before he knows what’s even happening, He’s flipped them over so that he’s on top and their both naked, kissing furiously and rubbing up against each other. In need of a break from all this friction, Al pulls away from Drake, creating some space between the two of them, and begins to kiss his way down the older man’s absolutely exquisite body. 

“Asp-”

“Al, please, it’s Al,” Al says before swiping his tongue across Drake’s hip.

“Al, I’m not going to last,” Drake admits. 

Al lets out a breath of relief and grins as he moves back up, “Thank Merlin, because I’m not going to either,” he says before leaning down to kiss Drake again. 

“Gods, you make me feel like a teenager,” Drake gasps out between kisses. Al grins at him and brings his palm up. He licks it and brings it back down, wrapping both of their cocks in his hands. Drake gasps at the touch and Al chokes back a groan. He has a fleeting thought that this is the first time all evening he’s actually touched Drake’s cock but the thought is soon pushed away because Al is so consumed with pleasure. It doesn’t take much; the feeling of Drake’s hard prick against his own and the delicious sounds that Drake is making quickly send him over the edge, spurting hotly onto both of their torsos. Drake follows quickly, panting against Al’s neck and muttering curse words. Al presses his mouth to Drake’s hard, sliding in his tongue and alternately nipping at Drake’s lips. He can’t catch his breath; he’s too consumed with this ecstasy. 

Finally, air begins to get through his body in a regular fashion and he collapses off to the side of Drake. “Shit, we didn’t even have real sex and you affect me this way? I’m going to die by the end of the year,” Al finally says.

Drake chuckles at him, “I’m supposed to be the old man in this relationship.”

“I like the sounds of that,” Al replies, clearly referring to the relationship part. He leans over and kisses Drake again, this time softly and then gets up out of the bed. He comes back quickly, so that Drake doesn’t worry about what he’s up to and cleans each of them off with a damp cloth. After that, he climbs back into the bed next to Drake and grabs his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table. He passes one to Drake and takes one himself, lighting both and then taking a deep drag on his own. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asks.

Drake turns to look at him and there is a smirk spread across his face. Al widens his eyes in mock terror. “Well, I may be an old man but... this old man is totally ready to do that again.”

This time, Al returns his smirk. “Only that?” he asks, “But there’s so much more I can show you,” he offers. 

“Is that so?” Drake rolls on top of him and leans in for a kiss, holding his cigarette away so that neither of them get burned.

“Oh Draco, you have no idea what I can give to you,” Al teases before leaning in for another kiss.

end 


End file.
